A Tale of Two Princes
by Evnissyn
Summary: And they all lived happily ever after ... that is, except for the strange nightmares, the assassination attempts, and the myriad secrets surrounding the enigmatic Prince Duzie. Poor Prince Lios doesn't have a clue what's going on ... Continuation fic - beware spoilers!
1. Dreams of Death

Disclaimer: Vampire Game does not belong to me, no matter how I wish it. And this holds true for all following chapters, since I know I often forget. No, I always know that Vampire Game belongs to Judal. It's just that it's such an obvious fact of life that I sometimes forget other people need to be reminded of it ...

A/N: I started writing this story in my head a long time ago, after I read the last volume of Vampire Game. I just couldn't believe that the happy ending would stay happy. Razenia is only one kingdom over, and was so superstitious about twin princes that one prince had to disappear. I really can't believe Pheliosta is going to be perfectly fine with having twin princes now. And as one of the twin princes is actually a Vampire ...

Anyway, this will be a collection of loosely connected short drabble-y pieces in not-quite-chronological order. Enjoy :]

**IMPORTANT A/N: There's some controversy over who St. Phelios' reincarnation is / if St. Phelios was ever reborn prior to the epilogue. I'm assuming that Yuujel/Yujinn was St. Phelios' reincarnation, and Ishtar's son Phelios is the reincarnation of Yuujel/Yujinn/St. Phelios.**

* * *

><p>Dreams of Death<p>

For as long as he could remember, Lios had always had dreams of desperate spell-battle, nightmares of dying by sword and by magic. Some nights, an old man wielding sword and spell fought to kill him, and he could only fight to defend, because killing the old man would result in terrible consequences. Other nights, he was armed with sword and spell against a young man with long platinum blond hair dressed in black armor, their duels fought in the midst of pitched battle.

The dreams were usually fuzzy and indistinct in his memory. Sometimes he'd only remember a blurred sensation of whirling desperate movement or a vague feeling of endless exhausted spell-casting. Other times, he'd wake with only an inexplicable ache in his side, or with tears in his eyes, but no memory of dreams.

And then there were nightmares that were terrifyingly sharp and clear. Sometimes he'd wake screaming from the shock and the pain of a sword in his gut, the face of the old man blazed across the inside of his eyelids. (Some days, he thinks that Uncle Vord looks a lot like the old man, and he flatly refuses to go to Razenia when Mother and Father start talking about a diplomatic family visit.) Sometimes, it was the young man's wide-eyed shock that was carved into his mind, the young man's incredulous shouts (_Then what is the point of victory?_) that tore him awake. Shouted incantations echoed through his mind, rang in his ears, and, on bad days, would be so close to the surface that he had to be careful not to lash out with those spells when startled. (The holy magic tutors always marveled at how fast he learned magical spells when his understanding of magical theory _sucked_, but he tried not to think too hard about how he could dream of spells that he'd never learned before.)

And on the worst days, the spells he'd cast (_how could he know those spells?_) and the people he fought (_people he'd killed, he was a murderer, but they had killed him, he was dead_) in his dreams the night before would drown out all else that was happening around him, and he'd lose track of who he was, what he was doing (_he was supposed to be dead_) and he'd just curl up in a corner and _scream_.

But Duzie was always there, even though Duzie was an expert with swords and knives and fists (and what was happening to Lios could not be defeated with such weapons), even though Duzie was not good with magic the way Lios was (but who else could ever learn spells from strange and terrifying dreams?), even though it was _Lios_ who always protected _Duzie_ (from the nobility they met on a regular basis, from the occasional undead assault, from the frequent assassination attempts). When Lios collapsed, when he could not separate nightmare from reality, Duzie was the only one who could pull him back from the edge of insanity.

Duzie would always send away whatever servants or guards or nobles were in the room, as commanding and imperious as the king he would eventually be. Lios could remember the first few times, when the palace guards and servants were still unused to this arrangement, to Duzie's sudden transformation from quiet scholarly child to imposing future king. The servants had ignored Duzie, had crowded around Lios, trying to hold him down - they thought he was having a spasmotic fit - and Lios had screamed and thrashed all the more, for his mind had superimposed the faces of the old man and the young man from his dreams on everyone, even though he knew he was awake, he knew these people around him were ones he had grown up around, grown up trusting. And Lios couldn't control it, he lashed out with magic that would have _killed_ - and Duzie leapt in the way of the magic blast, yelped in pain, _survived_, and then snarled in near wild fury that everyone should _get the hell out of his sight they were not helping matters by being there_. And Lios had slowly quieted, once there was only Duzie left, because Duzie grounded him, Duzie took the magic Lios threw at him but _survived_, and _didn't_ attack him, and _didn't_ flee in terror, and _didn't die_, the way everyone in the nightmares did. When the guards came tearing back, magic tutors and holy knights in tow, they had yanked Duzie away, and Lios had lashed out with magic again, magic that shattered bone and sliced into flesh, magic that maimed and _killed_, and this time it was not Duzie that was hit, and the guards and holy knights were _dying_. And Duzie wrenched free, leapt again in the way of the next spell and took the brunt of the magic - _but was not hurt at all_.

Eventually, the palace came to a consensus - their little prince Lios was far stronger than anyone knew. Every once in a while, the magic that was larger than Lios, that was more than Lios could control, would grow wild and lash out at anyone and everyone in the vicinity. Except for Duzie, who the magic recognized as part of Lios, as the same as Lios, as _Lios himself_, and did not attack him. In fact, some whispered, Lios was born with twice the magic of any Royal, everyone knew Duzie had little to no magic, so Duzie's should-have-been magic must have been transfered to Lios. Maybe the gods had made a cosmic mistake in handing out magic, who knew? So the magic that went wild was magic that should have been Duzie's and rebelled against Lios's control and threatened to kill everyone Lios cared about - except Duzie, who the magic recognized as it's original should-have-been master. Or maybe Lios's magic was not just the magic of their beloved Prince Lios, but also the magic of his ancestor Saint Phelios, drawn to his namesake a hundred years later. And it was Saint Phelios' magic that grew wild and lashed out, to kill all those who did not hold Saint Phelios's blood, the way it was rumored that Saint Phelios's sword Sidia did. And since the blood of Saint Phelios ran in Prince Duzie's veins, Saint Phelios's magic did not kill him.

A thousand rumors, a thousand rationalizations. But whatever it was the palace inhabitants believed, they at least left Duzie and Lios alone whenever Lios went out of control.

Lios knew the truth however, and the palace was nowhere near it, with their crazy theories of wild magic. Lios's magic was under tight and deadly control at all times, it was Lios's _mind_ that shattered and twisted and saw enemies everywhere. Lios lashed out _on purpose_, with the deadliest of intent, to kill the old man with a sword who had killed Lios the night before, to defend against the young man in black armor who was surely here to avenge his death at Lios' hands. And Duzie, by not dying, by not breaking, by not even reacting under the blow of magic, brought Lios back to reality, brought Lios out of his nightmares where everyone _died_ at his hand. And it made _no sense_, that Duzie could have no reaction at all to magic that should have blown away an arm or shattered his skull, Lios had never ever held back, had never ever had a last second realization that _this is my brother, I can't hurt Duzie_.

And yet _Duzie survived_.

This was how Lios knew Duzie was magically more powerful than him. Duzie could shrug off everything Lios threw at him, without any visible effort. He just went to bed an hour earlier on those days, woke up an hour later than usual, and was perfectly fine the next day.

_What kind of magic must Duzie be using to survive the onslaught of death-magic?_ Lios always wondered, but only ever asked Duzie once, after another episode when they were a week shy of eleven years old.

Duzie's only answer then had been a long indecipherable look, and a question: _What did Lios see when he collapsed screaming and lashed out with magic?_

Lios did not answer. Duzie did not pry.

They both understood the need for secrets no one else should know.


	2. Waking Dreams

Waking Dreams

For as long as Lios could remember, his dreams had always been violent and deadly, full of battles and magic. But he never spoke of them to Duzie, and Duzie never asked why Lios sometimes woke up crying - or screaming.

Duzie had strange dreams too, Lios knew. Duzie sometimes talked in his sleep, about La Gamme and Vampires, about love and killing, about cats and magic. From these small spoken scraps, Lios pieced together that Duzie's dreams were probably about hunting and being hunted, fighting and spying and running away. His dreams were certainly much more varied than Lios's. But most interesting was what happened when Duzie woke.

If Lios went to wake Duzie, Duzie would look up at Lios with a puzzled frown, eyes always blank of recognition, as if he had trouble placing Lios's face. Sometimes, before his eyes cleared into full wakefulness, Duzie would ask muggily, "Phelios? Is that you?" And Duzie _never_ called Lios by his formal name, rarely anyone did. Once, Duzie had looked up at Lios and said harshly, "_Yujinn?_ What are you playing at?" before blinking into full life.

If it was Mother who woke Duzie, it was even more confusing. Duzie always knew who he was looking at, who he was talking to, never calling her any strange names. But Duzie always called her "Ishtar" before he was fully awake, and Duzie never called her anything but "Mother" at any other time. And Duzie, usually cheerfully respectful to Mother, was always strangely rude and insolent when he was half-asleep. Duzie had once hissed at her to "Leave me in peace! When did _you_ become so dutiful about waking up on time and going to lessons!" Even stranger was Mother's reaction - she took all of it in stride, did not take Duzie to task for insolence the way she would have if Lios had done this. Instead, she merely smiled wistfully, laid a hand on Duzie's shoulder and said, "It's Mother, now. Come on, wake up, my son." And Duzie would sit up, blink into wakefulness, and become the respectful prince again.

Father rarely went to wake Duzie, usually sending Lios or Mother to do so. But every once in a while, Father would go himself, and Duzie's reaction to Father was as just as strange as his reaction to Mother. Duzie always called him "Father" when he was fully awake, but if Duzie spoke before he truly opened his eyes, Duzie would sometimes name Father as "Rishas," and then Father would blush heavily, step away, and call at Duzie from a safer distance, "No, son, it's Father, time to wake up." Sometimes Duzie would look at Father with a strange wariness in his still-sleepy eyes, and call him "Darres" instead of "Father." In those cases, Duzie would be strangely standoffish, and demand to know "Why are you here, Darres?" or ask after "Ishtar." There was even one time where Duzie sat bolt upright and asked frantically, "Darres? Is Ishtar alright?" and was halfway dressed before Father could calm him and bring him back to normal.

Lios saw all this, wondered about it, tried to piece it together with Duzie's sleep-talking.

But since Duzie never asked Lios about dreams he did not want to speak of, Lios did not ask Duzie about things Duzie pretended did not happen, words Duzie did not admit to saying.

Both Duzie and Lios knew that they did not really want to know.


	3. Interlude: Nicknames for a Prince

Interlude: Nicknames for a Prince

"Duzell and Phelios? Really?"

"Darres, dear, you've said that at least 10 times a day for the last week. Give over already!"

"It just seems so weird ... two harmless little babies, named after the Vampire King, and the Warrior Saint who killed him."

"True, the names are a bit too ... noble? Formal?"

"You know, if the commoners hear about this ...:"

"I know, I know, they won't be too happy about it. But the names are _theirs_, Darres, you _know_ it."

"Yes, I know. The irony of the situation, mortal enemies reincarnated as brothers ... Doesn't change the fact that it's really awkard to think I'm changing St. Phelios' diapers and bottle-feeding the Vampire King himself."

"Ahaha! How about Duzie? Would calling him widdle Duzie-wuzie help?"

"... Some ..."

"And now a nickname for Phelios .."

"Pheli?"

"Hell no. That sounds like girl's name."

"... Yujinn had long hair in a _braid_ and you _know_ he swung both ways ..."

"Still. Yujinn was a properly dignified name. I'm sure plenty of people called him 'Yujie' in private, but at least in public he had some dignity."

"Not a whole lot of it ..."

"We are not calling him Pheli, or Fifi, or anything like that. End of discussion."

"Fifi? That's just cruel!"

"Yes it is. So we need to think of something _else_."

"... How about Lios?"

"Lios ... Yes, much better. You have your moments, Darres."

"I try ... But I still think the commoners may want to revolt once they hear what we've named their princes. They're on edge as it is, the two of them being twins ..."

"True ... How about we call them by codenames or something?"

"... Codenames."

"Yeah! Like ... I don't know ... Yujinn and ... Ishta?"

"... Ishtar, I really love you, and I know you've got quite a lot of smarts hidden somewhere in that head of yours, but sometimes I wonder ..."

"Yeah, that was pretty pathetic ... I'm not really good at thinking of names!"

"Let's just call them Du and Li for now. If their real names come out at some point, we'll at least not look like liars."

"Oh alright ..."


	4. Rumors and Whispers

Rumors and Whispers

When Queen Ishtar gave birth to a young prince, the kingdom of Pheliosta rejoiced. The line of succession was secured, in their future was a King who would hopefully be more sane than their current impulsive and barely tamed Queen.

They celebrated for all of thirty minutes, until the announcement came that Queen Ishtar had given birth to another young prince.

The rumors didn't start circling until a few days later, after the citizens of Pheliosta recovered from the shock. Razenia was not the only place where tradition and old wives' tales spoke about the evil and bad luck that followed the birth of twins. Those who were particularly supersititious spoke of demons, vampires, monsters who could weave such spells as to share a human birth in the guise of a twin brother or sister. Those who were far more sensible and politically minded spoke of problems with the line of succession, and a dangerous rivalry between the twin princes in the future. (Not that there wouldn't have been a rivalry between princes if they had been ordinary brothers. But at least the law was clear on brothers - twins just made a muddle of _everything_.) In short, absolutely everyone in Pheliosta, except for those who were closest to the realm's eccentric Queen, loudly wished that only one prince had been born, and silently wished that one prince would disappear - and the sooner the better.

Over the course of the next few months, various members of the palace household "died bravely defending the princes of the realm from assassins", according to announcements from Queen Ishtar and General Darres. But the rumors that flared to life after each announcement whispered that some of those "brave" defenders had been would-be assassins themselves, killed by magic the Queen herself wove around her children.

For the longest time - a good two years - no one outside the palace really knew what the Princes's names were. There were rumors about Sir Keld having a fit over the names Queen Ishtar had chosen, but Queen Ishtar was always doing crazy things, why should this be any different? Mostly, the servants and the guards in the palace (the main sources for any Royal Family rumors) only heard the Princes referred to as "Li" and "Du" by their parents and Sir Keld and General Selen. (Those who had heard more ... well, they did not live to tell anyone why they had immediately tried to kill their princes.) Slowly, rumors from the surrounding fiefs of La Naan and Zi Alda trickled back to Pheliosta, rumors that the royalty in Razenia, La Naan, Zi Alda all referred to the Pheliostan Princes as "Duzell" and "Phelios" ...

Revolt was really not outside the realm of possibility when the people heard these rumors. Having twins was bad enough - did Queen Ishtar really have to thumb her nose at the gods in such a way? She named one twin after the Devil who had nearly destroyed Pheliosta in the past and gave the other twin a name that - if had been _anybody_ else - would have resulted in being brought before the Holy Knights with a charge of blasphemy! Really, Queen Ishtar was just _asking_ for trouble! But the people of Pheliosta were rather used to Queen Ishtar pulling crazy stunts, and the crisis passed without much fanfare - just one riot and a spate of assassination attempts that only killed three guards and only once came close to killing a prince.

Over the years, public opinion on the two princes swung back and forth wildly, sometimes favoring one, sometimes the other. At one point, coinciding with the discovery of the princes' names, it was Prince Duzie the public disliked. He was three years old at the time, and the rumors from the palace spoke of his quiet intensity so unlike most other three-year-olds (including Prince Lios) who were energetic chatterboxes. He had dark eyes that stared and stared until you wanted to look away, but _couldn't_, eyes that _hypnotised_ you. He refused to play with the children of the other nobility, preferring to read in the palace library (and when did he _learn_ to read?) rather than socialize. He spoke in full sentences, when he did speak, and was a rather creepy child all around. Prince Lios, on the other hand, was adorable, always smiling and burbling happily. He made friends quickly and easily with any visiting noble children, and charmed every adult who met him, even those inclined to dislike children. Thus it was rather easy for the public to cry that obviously Prince Duzie was the evil twin.

But eventually whispers started about the Queen's ... care for Lord Seiliez, from neighboring La Naan. Lord Seiliez, who Queen Ishtar had reportedly loved at one point, and might have married if things had taken a different path. Lord Seiliez, who had spent a good 3 months in and out of the Pheliosta palace about a year before the twin princes' birth, when Lady Ramia kicked him out of his own castle to "go out and make yourself useful and meet some nice girls!" Lord Seiliez, whose blonde hair and grey eyes resembled a growing Prince Lios' just a little bit too closely ...

Not long after, one of the midwives who had attended the princes' birth (all of whom had been astonishingly quiet for a long time on any real details of said birth) let slip that the firstborn prince had had a swath of black hair, and the younger prince had blonde.

Add to that, Prince Lios had his first mental and magical breakdown, barely a week later ...

By the time the twin princes turned seven years old, public opinion had split sharply down the middle.

One side supported Prince Duzie as the Crown Prince, citing his martial arts abilities and a scholar's knowledge of all things from magic to history to modern politics. They also whispered (and shouted and started barfights) about Prince Lios' possible status as bastard, as the evil younger twin, who had stolen magic that rightfully belonged to Prince Duzie.

And the other side supported Prince Lios as Crown Prince, citing powerful magic (_Saint Phelios'_ magic, thank you very much) that he'd grow into and a far more charming personality. _They_ whispered (and shouted and started tavern brawls) about Prince Duzie's unnerving presence, lack of any aptitude for holy magic, and complete inability to relate to any human being other than Queen Ishtar, General Darres, and Prince Lios.

(And more than a few just prayed for the Queen to have another son who everyone could agree on.)

Tavern brawls and barfights escalated into a riot and could have exploded into a full blown civil war, except for one thing:

"_Mother, I swear to God, if you make me Crown Prince, I _will_ run away and join the Vampires. I'm _not_ having any of this shit dropped in my lap._"

Words that a guard heard while eavesdropping on a conversation between Prince Duzie and Queen Ishtar the night before the princes' eighth birthday. Words that spread like fire through the city all the next day, part and parcel with all the other rumors - both old (taken out of dusty old corners, polished til they shone) and new (freshly minted pet theories, brought out into the light for the first time) - about the princes. Words that made the Queen's announcement that day unnecessary:

"_We have decided that our beloved Prince Phelios II, namesake and great-great-grandson of Saint Phelios, will be the Crown Prince of Pheliosta, first in line to inherit the throne and kingship of this land when we die._"


	5. Crown Prince

Crown Prince

_"We have decided that our beloved Prince Phelios II, namesake and great-great-grandson of Saint Phelios, will be the Crown Prince of Pheliosta, first in line to inherit the throne and kingship of this land when we die."_

Even though they were only eight years old, the two princes of Pheliosta were both politically savvy enough not to have any visible reaction during and immediately after the announcement, but more than one courtier noticed, hours later, a visibly upset Prince Lios pull an expressionless Prince Duzie into the Queen's empty study.

There, behind half a dozen hastily cast spells against spying and eavesdropping, safe from the rumormill of Pheliosta, Lios whirled and punched Duzie in the jaw, almost knocking him to the ground. "What the hell did you tell Mother! What the hell did you do to make her appoint me Crown Prince!"

Angry tears blurred his vision some, but he could still see Duzie's eyes widen with shock, and the trembling of Duzie's fists and shoulders. "Don't you want to be king?" Duzie asked, voice shaking.

"_You_ were supposed to be king!" Lios blinked away the tears clouding his vision. "You're smarter than me, you're better at dealing with the palace courtiers! The only thing I'm good at is magic! That's it!"

Duzie's lips thinned in irritation and determination. "But the King of Pheliosta is _supposed_ to have magic, to protect Pheliosta from the Vampires if they dare to rise against us again. And you're good with people, you're friends with all the younger nobility, you already have enough personal connections and popular support to stage a coup if you wanted!"

Lios shoved Duzie hard, and this time Duzie stumbled over the edge of a rug and fell backwards to the ground. "I'm a _bastard!_" Lios snarled. It was the first time Lios had dared say it out loud, and it hurt even more than hearing the whispers that started almost two years ago. "Didn't you hear? Uncle Seiliez is my real father, not General Darres!" It was the first time he'd referred to Father by name - but then, Darres had never really been his father ...

Duzie's eyes flashed and while Lios was still trying to decide whether or not Duzie's eyes had actually turned red for an instant, Duzie _moved_. Lios didn't see the fist that knocked him to the ground.

"_Don't ever say that again._" Duzie towered over a slightly dazed Lios - _and when did Duzie manage to get up?_ - and his tone of voice made Lios tremble a little in fear. "You are not a bastard." Duzie seemed cloaked with power and Lios could not wrench his eyes away from Duzie's. "Ishtar would _never_ do that to Darres. She loves him more than you can ever know." And then Duzie blinked and the power faded away, and Duzie suddenly looked very tired. "Besides," he continued, "it doesn't matter. You are still Queen Ishtar's son, you are still a descendant of Phelios, and you still have ten times more holy magic that I do."

Lios stared up at Duzie, dazed and more than a little disbelieving. "But I look just like Uncle Seiliez, Mother and Father don't have blonde hair like I do," he whispered. "And you look exactly like Mother."

Duzie crouched down in front of Lios. "Seiliez and you both - and Illsaide, for that matter - look like _Saint Phelios_. You're the spitting image of your ancestor. That's all." His voice was calm, gentle, reasonable.

"Really?" Lios whispered. He felt like a small child, being told his nightmares weren't going to follow him out of his dreams.

Duzie nodded solemnly. "Yes."

And Lios broke down crying. A weight seemed to disappear from his shoulders, and the relief of it tore at his emotions, at his mind ...

_And suddenly he was no longer in Mother's study, he was in a wasteland surrounded by the dead and dying, and __it was not Duzie crouched before him, it was a handsome young man, with long platinum blonde hair, dressed in black armor. His red eyes matched the red earrings he wore, and both shone unnaturally bright against skin that was paler than his hair. "Why, Phelios?" the young man asked. "Why were you so willing to sacrifice yourself?"_

_Lios scrambled backward, desperately trying to get away. "I don't know! Leave me alone! Go away!"_

_The young man stood up, and stalked after Lios, cape flapping behind him. "You humans," he hissed in something far too much like disgust, "are completely crazy. The world would be so much simpler without you." And a sword was suddenly in his hand, slashing downwards toward Lios -_

_Lios flung up a hand and shouted the first spell that came to mind, a slicing spell to shatter the blade and tear the young man's hand to shreds -_

_And the young man did not flinch when the metal shattered, did not bleed when the pieces sliced at his hands and face ..._

And the vision dissipated as quickly as it came, and it was Duzie who was standing there, very still, hand extended toward Lios. "Are you back with the living?" Duzie asked carefully.

Lios closed his eyes, swallowed, nodded.

"Then come on, get up, Mother must be wondering where we've gone off to."

Lios opened his eyes, reached out and let Duzie help pull him to his feet. They were halfway to the door before Lios suddenly spoke up. "I can't be Crown Prince, Duzie. How can I be a proper king if this ... if my magic keeps going wonky like this?"

Duzie slung an arm around Lios. "You'll grow out of it, or you'll learn a spell that will help you control it, or something. It'll either get fixed or it won't. Either way, it's not like I'm going anywhere. You're the Crown Prince, but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna throw you to the wolves. I'll still be here to help you."

Lios turned and gave Duzie an awkward hug. "You sure you don't mind? You're older, it's your birthright."

"Hey, we shared a birth, Lios. It's your birthright too."

It was only much much later that Lios thought to wonder who Illsaide was, and how Duzie seemed to know, without a doubt, that Lios looked exactly like Saint Phelios. After all, Lios knew neither he nor Uncle Seiliz looked much like the painting of Saint Phelios in the throne room ...


	6. Prince Duzell

A/N: This is about when you need to start paying attention to the ages I give for the princes. I'm not writing any of this is chronological order (*glares at temperamental muse*), and the chapters will start jumping back and forth in the timeline.

**genbugirl**: Glad you like it so far! Hmm, I don't have easy access to the manga anymore, I'm kind of winging the canon bits, so I'm very sorry for the mixup! Basically, I made Duzell the older twin to create more tension and a realistic reason for people to support scary creepy Duzie to be King rather than happy charismatic Lios.

* * *

><p><strong>Prince Duzell<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Duzie started asking to be addressed as "Prince Duzell" soon after he and Lios turned ten.<em>

* * *

><p>"I would prefer to be called Prince <em>Duzell<em>, if you please," Duzie said, voice clipped and sharp, just this side of insolent. "I do not remember _ever_ giving you permission to use any nicknames. I am your prince and _you will address me as such_."

The rising star of a merchant (who, Lios privately thought, must have been very stupid to try to patronise Duzie - it was plainly suicide) flinched, bowed, murmured a contrite "I apologize, Prince Duzell," and fled.

* * *

><p>"The people still remember the Vampire King and the devastation he caused, Prince Duzie," Sir Keld said, addressing the space between Duzie and Lios. He'd grown blind in his old age, and he rarely showed up in court anymore, but there he was, being supported and guided by two of his grandchildren. "You will not be doing yourself any favors by using your formal name."<p>

"Then it's a good thing that the Crown Prince is Lios and not me, isn't it?" Despite the wording, it was more threat than question.

"You will not be helping your brother's reputation either, Prince Duzie!"

Lios saw Duzie tense out of the corner of his eye, saw Duzie's mouth twist with anger. Before Duzie could say anything damaging, Lios cut in. "There are advantages to having the people love you enough to call you nicknames, but frankly, Duzie scares the crap out of them anyway. And if Duzie's usual snappishness hasn't caused them to turn on me, I doubt calling him Duzell will change matters much."

"But Prince Lios, you're not looking at this right! We are talking psychology and the subconscience here, not conscious decisions! Listen, now, the both of you! Using 'Duzie' makes the people, at least subconsciously, think of you as a child, or at least as relatively harmless." Duzie's hands clenched into fists, and Lios' breath caught in his throat at the look of fury that passed over his brother's face. But Sir Keld just barreled on oblivious. "it's insulting, yes, but your alternative? That's even worse. Using Duzell will make the people subconsciously classify you with the Vampire King. You will be _feared_, and where would we be then?"

"_You_ would be left with calling me Prince _Duzell_, and protecting Prince Lios _with your life_ to make sure that I do not have any chance at becoming _King_ Duzell."

Sir Keld finally seemed to catch on to how very angry Duzie was. "Very well, Prince Duzell," he said with a bow.

* * *

><p>Dinner was a tense affair. Mother kept shooting glances at Duzie, alternating between angry and sorrowful. Each time Mother got a particularly determined look in her eyes and started to open her mouth to speak to Duzie, Father would lay a restraining hand on Mother's arm. The first time, Father had whispered, "Not at dinner, please, Ishtar." Mother had glared at Father, and then looked over at Duzie with sad eyes. The silence would remain unbroken for the whole meal, but each time Mother <em>looked<em> at Duzie, he just wound tighter and tighter, Lios could see it, and he was dreading the result when Duzie finally snapped.

The moment dessert was finished, Mother said, before Father could make a move to stop her, "Duzie, could you please explain to me what in God's name you were thinking?"

Duzie narrowed his eyes. "Oh, I just want everyone to hate me, no big deal," he hissed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mother's eyes flashed with anger. "Do _not_ take that tone with me, I am your Mother."

Duzie looked away for a moment, took a deep breath, turned back. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said, perfectly polite. "But I am sick of people thinking of me as a _child -_ _treating_ me like a child - because of that name."

Father sighed. "Duzie, you _are_ a child. You only turned ten a month ago."

Duzie gave Father a look that Lios did not know how to read. "I am also a prince, am I not?" he asked. "A prince needs to be respected, not patronised."

"And calling you Duzell will give you that respect?" Mother asked, still angry. "When the people fear and hate the name?"

"It's a step in the _right direction_."

Mother flinched at that, and her anger evaporated, she shrank a little in her seat. She looked like she aged ten years, Lios thought. "Well, if you say so, Duzie. If you say so."

* * *

><p>After all the reactions and snarled arguments Duzie had had with nearly everybody, Lios had suddenly realized something. Something he absolutely needed to ask Duzie about. Immediately. Even though it was the middle of the night, and Duzie might try to kill him if he was woken up now.<p>

Lios crept over to Duzie's room and peeked through the door. "Hello?" he called softly into the darkness.

There was a shifting of blankets on the bed. "Go away."

Lios bit his lip in indecision. Duzie was awake at least ... but if he was in a truly bad mood, he might snap and snarl by reflex instead of giving Lios a real answer, a thought-through answer. _I'll take the risk._ "I have two really quick questions."

An exasperated sigh. "Fine."

"Can _I_ still call you Duzie?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Lios knew this had been a bad idea. Duzie had said over and over he wanted to be called _Duzell_, Lios should have just taken the hint -

"Yes. Next question?"

_... Wait, what?_ "Um, really? I can really keep calling you Duzie, even though -"

"Is that _really_ your second question?" Duzie snarled out of the darkness.

_Ouch, he's really cranky._ "Um, no." _Gotta make this quick ..._ "Should I also get people to call me Phelios?"

This was followed by a short silence that Lios really didn't know interpret. Duzie could be calmly thinking out all the ramifications, or he could have been blindsided by the question and was getting ready to snarl. Or Duzie could have just gone to sleep ...

"No. Now go away."

Lios blinked at the short one-word answer. "Why?" he asked.

"So I can _sleep?_" Duzie snapped.

Lios winced. _Alrighty, time to call a retreat ..._ "Good night," he called, and closed the door behind him.

* * *

><p><em>Once Lios' footsteps faded down the hall, Duzell buried his face in his hands and said to the empty air, "I have a hard enough time keeping the two of you separate in my mind as it is, Phelios. Please, please, please don't make it any more difficult."<em>


	7. Assassination: ONE

A/N: So ... it's been a while ... *extreme guilt* ... all I can say is it was a killer semester and next semester is only gonna be worse ... so updates will be VERY sporadic (or just nonexistent)

The chapter I had _originally_ planned refused to make any kind of sense, so I gave up and wrote this instead. I'm experimenting with the style here - please tell me if it's understandable!

* * *

><p><strong>Assassination <strong>

ONE_  
><em>

* * *

><p>Lios's earliest memory was of their nursemaid - she sang him to sleep every night that Mother could not, she smiled and played with him when Father was busy with papers and the army, she was pretty and smelled nice and felt <em>safe<em>. Lios knew all this, remembered all this -

- but it was a secondhand memory, a memory of a memory.

* * *

><p>Lios's earliest memory was of a dark night, woken by arms that had grabbed him away from the warm body beside him (<em>Duzie!<em>), of being torn away from his brother, his twin, by a woman who smelled nice and felt _safe_, and in the moment before he heard Duzie scream, Lios realized that this was their nursemaid, who had sung them to sleep only an hour ago, who smiled and was pretty and smelled nice and felt _safe_ -

- but that was in the moment before a knife flashed and Duzie screamed and the woman holding him stumbled and almost fell to the ground and Lios _reached_ for something deep inside himself and magic flared and light burst in the dark room -

- the room was lit and Lios could see now and Duzie was standing, facing him with a dagger that Duzie had only just started training with, and Duzie's left arm was hanging useless at his side, bleeding, at a strange angle (_a broken bone that had healed by the time morning came_), and Duzie's eyes were dark and dangerous and Duzie _snarled_ -

- _snarled_ at the woman who was holding Lios, the woman who was their nursemaid, who was pretty, and smelled nice, and smiled, and sang -

- and Lios was torn, for a moment, in two directions. Duzie was _hurt_ - but this was their _nursemaid_, who was pretty and smelled nice and smiled and sang -

"Take your hands off my brother!"

"I won't let you corrupt Lios any longer, you demon!"

- and Lios didn't know what to _do_ - the voice of his constant companion had never sounded so imperious, so dangerous before and the voice of their nursemaid was not suited to angry hissing, it was a voice for singing, a voice for laughter and smiles - _who were these strangers who had replaced the people in his life?_ -

- and then the woman holding Lios brought her other hand up into Lios's field of view, and _she was holding a knife - the dagger Lios had been training with - _

_... and the blade was red with blood_ ...

* * *

><p>Lios's earliest memory was of their nursemaid trying to kill his brother.<p>

Lios does not remember anything else of their nursemaid - nothing about how sweet her singing was, neither how pretty she looked when she smiled, nor how graceful and gentle she was when she had to carry Lios to bed.

What Lios remembers of their nursemaid was what her voice sounded like in a snarled angry hiss, what she looked like with hatred and murder written in her eyes, that she was clumsy but deadly with a knife, how rough her hands were when she grabbed Lios.

Lios's earliest memory was of blood and death and betrayal.

Lios learned at the age of four that no one can be trusted.


	8. To Be A Cat

A/N: I'm going to stop apologizing for long waits. -_-' Just know that there are several other ideas for this fic rolling around in my head and hiding in the depths of my computer's hard drive, all of which will _eventually_ get written.

* * *

><p>To Be a Cat<p>

"Wouldn't it be nice to be a cat?" Lios said out of the blue, causing Duzie to falter in the middle of hacking a straw dummy to pieces with a wooden practice sword. According to the schedule Father had drawn up for the two princes, they were supposed to do some reading on magic or war strategy or something or other, but Duzie had long ago mutinied on any such self-directed study. Lios wondered sometimes how Duzie had transformed from an utter bookworm who had taught himself how to read, to someone who refused to do any form of reading, in lessons, for class, on any topic at all, unless an adult - preferably Mother or Father - stood behind his chair and breathed down his neck and made sure he was actually turning pages every minute or so. Lios himself had no power to make Duzie study. Drag Duzie to class? Yes, that was within his power. Making Duzie pay attention to the tutors and study? No, Lios wasn't a miracle worker. Therefore, the two princes of Pheliosta were now in the palace courtyard instead of the palace library during their "self-study" period, Duzie energetically attacking a number of practice dummies, Lios idly playing with a strand of magical lightning.

"A _cat?_" Duzie asked incredulously as he stepped away from a straw practice dummy that was barely holding itself together. "Why would it be better to be a cat?" Duzie's tone made Lios stifle a giggle - he sounded wary, as if he suspected he would regret asking.

"Well, for one, they don't have classes to go to," Lios said, lifting up a finger, allowing the magic he'd been juggling to dissipate into smoke.

"True," Duzie nodded as he eyed the practice dummy with a calculating gaze. "But you and I both ditch class whenever we feel like it - or rather, whenever you don't have a stick up your ass about 'listening to the tutors'. I _never_ feel like going to class."

Lios decided not to respond to Duzie's comment, and lifted a second finger. "They don't have to worry about politics and taxes and all that wonderful stuff about running a country."

"You know, I don't worry about about any of that stuff anyway. And _you're_ the crown prince, so _you're_ the one who has to mind the taxes," Duzie said with a smirk, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet.

"Yes, but I could always just appoint you Chief of Accounting once I'm king," Lios snarked back.

"Aww, why can't I just be your bodyguard?" Duzie whined. Then he whirled and a perfectly executed spinning heel kick knocked the practice dummy to the ground. Duzie continued through with the motion of the spin, bringing the practice sword he still held around to chop at the poor straw dummy with the whole force of the spin behind it. A voice in the back of Lios' mind babbled inanely about centripetal and centrifugal forces as splinters and straw went flying in every direction.

"Duzie, you idiot!" Lios leapt from the wall he'd been leaning against, toward his idiot of a brother who was crouched panting, eyes closed, bleeding from several cuts where splinters had sliced across his face and arms. "How the heck do you manage to inflict injuries on yourself when you're such a supposed expert in weapons?" Lios demanded as he knelt down in front of Duzie, hands dancing gently over each cut he found. "Damn it, there are splinters in some of these," Lios grumbled. "At least there's none in the cuts on your face ... Hold still." He murmured a short, focused vanishing spell, exceedingly careful in specifying that it was the splinters he wanted gone, not whole patches of Duzie's skin. (Lios shrugged away the images that flashed across the back of his mind, images of _men lying screaming on the ground, whole chunks of flesh vanished from their bodies._ It was just a nightmare, nothing more. Nothing _real_.) He let out a sigh of relief when the slivers of wood embedded in Duzie's arms disappeared into smoke.

"You done yet?" Duzie complained, eyes flickering open for a moment (and Duzie's eyes _did not_ shine red, in that sliver of a second, _not at all_), before closing again. He squirmed a bit, trying to yank his wrists free from Lios' grasp.

"No," Lios snapped, "hold still!" The generalized healing spell Lios spoke then was a familiar one, used regularly to heal the small cuts and scrapes that came with life as energetic ten-year-olds. (Lios also used it, less regularly, for damage control of larger wounds like a lacerated knee, or a knife through the arm, when Lios wasn't sure if he could spare the time or magic for a more thorough healing.) Lios watched with a critical eye as the cuts sealed themselves and faded into barely visible white lines. He scowled at the faded lines that refused to disappear - such healing left no marks on Lios himself or anyone else he'd healed, only with Duzie did the healing fail. The theory that maybe Duzie's magic (and Duzie _did_ have magic, Lios _knew_ he did) cancelled the effect of all spells done to him fluttered to the forefront of Lios' mind and was sent back to its corner - there were other things to worry about.

"You done _now_?" Duzie's whine brought Lios out of his annoyed contemplation of the thin scars that were all that remained of two dozen or so splinter wounds.

"Yup."

And Duzie was up and moving again, kicking aside the remains of the wooden practice sword and the straw dummy with an aggrieved sigh. "_Still_ don't have enough height for that maneuver," Duzie muttered. "And didn't quite compensate well enough for the torque. _Definitely_ forgot about the reach."

Lios shook his head, scrambling to his feet. Duzie was always trying new moves with the sword or a pair of knives - sometimes even with two swords. They rarely turned out as well as Duzie said they would. "Another experiment gone wrong," Lios said.

Duzie stiffened. "But not a failure, I just misjudged some of the details. I got it mostly right."

"You had no control at the end, Duzie. You weren't able to stop the spin early enough to keep from slamming into the pavement!"

"Yes, I know that!" Duzie snapped. "I'll need to work on it -"

"_Why_ do you need to work on it?" Lios asked, trembling slightly with anger and a desperate need to convince Duzie to _stop experimenting_. "And why can't you have one of the swordmasters supervise when you decide to invent a new move?"

Duzie closed his eyes and grumbled under his breath, something about '_not a new move_' and '_too darn short'_ but Lios didn't catch all of it. "What?" Lios demanded.

Duzie shook his head. "We're attacked once every couple of months, by vampires, assassins, and the random rogue magical construct. Lady Ramia has a fondness for weapons tournaments and she keeps threatening to enter us into one eventually. Some of our contemporaries among the nobility are trained in fencing and swordplay and keep trying to challenge us to a blade or magic 'demonstration' battle in thinly veiled attempts to either kill one of us or make us look weak. Pray tell, whyever would I attempt to oneup the competition by using a unique style of fighting?"

The ringing silence stretched until Lios, desperate to find some way of breaking the tension, cracked a grin and said, "So you agree that being a cat would make life much easier?"

Duzie let out a huff of laughter and the angry tense atmosphere vanished. "No politics, no scheming relatives," Duzie said in a playfully wistful tone.

"No assassins too," Lios added. "No training, no classes. And cats are far below the notice of any vampire or human ..." Duzie twitched at that last bit, and Lios paused, the smile falling from his face. "Duzie? What is it?"

"Nothing, it's nothing - "

"No, it's not nothing, Duzie, tell me what's wrong. What did I say?"

"It's just ..." Duzie's voice trailed off, and he bit his lip uncertainly. When he spoke up again, he wouldn't quite meet Lios' eyes. "You know the village of Milan? There was a ... shall we say, a minor controversy involving the kyawl cats in the area, and it escalated into a tragedy in which three children died." Duzie's voice was casual, as if he was mentioning offhand something of no consequence. But he was using far more tact than he usually did, and that ... confused Lios. Duzie never spoke that carefully about anything or anyone, not about any of the nobility, not about Mother or Father, not about Lios, not even about _himself_. Duzie's tongue had always been razor-sharp, but now he was treating the subject with kid-gloves. _What the hell is going on?_

Duzie had not yet finished. "The villagers blamed the kyawls and now it is their unoffical policy to kill any and all cats on sight."

Lios closed his eyes and felt ice curl in his heart. Nothing is ever as simple and easy as it seemed - if there was a way bring death and killing into the picture, then someone would do so, guaranteed. He _knew_ this, he should not be surprised - it was common sense by now to wear chain mail beneath his court clothes, to etch ever-sharp runes on every blade he carried, to check for poison in his food, to wrap magic around him every moment he was awake, ready for the inevitable assassination attempts. But that was _his_ life, he'd thought, maybe, somewhere out there, there was someone for whom death was a distant notion, not an ever-present shadow across his life. "Why can't even a cat's life be simple and straightforward?" Lios wondered.

Duzie shrugged, tossing Lios an ironic smile. "It's life. Nothing's ever simple. _Especially_ not the lives of cats." He trotted over to the stack of practice swords they'd carried out earlier, picked two out of the pile. "Now stop being so morbid, and practice your sword forms!" He chucked one of the swords at Lios' head.

Lios ducked out of the way, laughing. "Alright, alright," he grinned and picked up the sword.

* * *

><p><em>Lios never thought to wonder where Duzie had heard of Milan's issues with kyawls. It certainly hadn't been in any of the politics or diplomacy lessons ...<em>

* * *

><p>AN: This started off as a very, very short thing on cats ... and then Duzie and Lios jumped tracks on me ... twice ...

Also, no real clue about the particular maneuver Duzie was trying out, I cobbled it together and made Duzie ramble about things I only researched for ten minutes on wiki and youtube.


End file.
